Vanished
by brodeurgirl30
Summary: Life. It can blindside you. Leave you breathless. Everything can be going your way; education, career, friends, the love of your life and in one moment, the flip of a simple switch can tear it all away. Anything. Everything. It can all vanish.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I'm only going to say this once. This story is not for the faint of heart. If you can't emotionally take a story that has the potential to devastate you, turn back now. I will not be offended.**

**As most of my stories are, it is based on a true story. But, this one holds a special place because I know these people. Some of the details have been changed for story telling purposes, but the bones are true.**

**Thanks to simba517 for her beta-ing skills and modersafari1 for letting me bounce ideas off of her and cry when I needed to.**

**Last warning...**

~Vanished~

The center snapped the ball. Edward Masen, number five and quarterback for the Forks High School Spartans, caught it and dropped back five steps. He loved this. The feel of the textured leather. The smell of the wet grass. The lights. The sound of the crowd. The marching band. The cheerleaders.

All of it.

Nothing beat a Friday night football game. And nothing could top throwing a touchdown. Edward knew it as soon as he let go. The pass was perfection. Time seemed to stand still as the ball hung in the air, spinning in its flawless spiral before settling into the arms of Jasper Whitlock.

The crowd erupted into cheers as the drum major kicked off the fight song. Pats on the helmet and swats on the butt from his teammates ushered Edward off the field. Special teams entered the game to attempt the extra point. Edward sat on the bench and popped his chin strap loose, cocking his helmet back on his head a little. He looked over his shoulder, his eyes scanning the sideline until they locked with Bella's. She smiled and winked, thrusting her pom pom in the air.

Their mothers had been best friends since kindergarten. When they both got pregnant their senior year of high school, it only deepened the already inseparable bond. Bella and Edward were born a week apart. They had never known life without each other and Edward prayed to God he never would.

She was his everything.

As he sat, allowing his mind to wonder, he realized he didn't even know when their relationship changed exactly—from one of brother and sister to what they are now. The cheer ended, Bella blowing him a kiss. He graced her in return with that crooked grin she loved so much.

God, she is beautiful, he thought.

One of the trainers, Pastor Andy the boys called him, draped a towel over his shoulder and thrust a cup of Gatorade in front of him as Edward removed his helmet completely and placed it next to him on the bench.

"You did good, kid. I always knew you had it in you."

Pastor Andy doubled as the team chaplain and was head pastor at the church where Edward's as well as several of the other boys' families attended—hence the name Pastor Andy. Edward smiled and thanked him. To the casual observer no one would guess the bond that he and Pastor Andy shared. Edward had experienced one of the darkest times in his seventeen years last spring after overhearing his parents fight about him.

All three of his parents.

Edward, Sr. and Esme had been high school sweethearts. Like Renee, Bella's mother, Esme had found out she was pregnant with him her senior year and she and Edward, Sr. had tried to make it work.

But, unlike Bella's parents - it didn't.

The stress of trying to go to school and make ends meet on minimum wage jobs with an infant proved too much for the young couple. They never married and in the end parted ways amicably with joint custody. Esme married Carlisle Cullen right out of college. Edward had grown to love Carlisle over the years. He had been around as long as he could remember. He really didn't view Carlisle any different than his biological father, although Edward would never let his real dad know that. Then as Edward started his freshman year, their family grew. Twins, Katie and Kyle Cullen joined the family quite unexpectedly.

He lifted the cup of Gatorade to his lips as he recalled the night that sent him into a funk for weeks. Esme, Edward, Sr. and Carlisle argued late into the evening about what college he should attend and how they were going to afford it.

"Stay out of this, Carlisle! He's not even your son! I don't want or need your money to send him to school," his father seethed as the younger Edward sat silently on the steps around the corner, leaning his head against the wall in fatigue. It was past midnight and his parents had been going at it since after dinner.

"Don't even, Ed!" his mother shot back. "Carlisle loves that boy as if he was his own. You have no right to come in here and treat him that way."

"I can talk anyway I want because no matter how you cut it, he is my son! I have a say in where he chooses to go to school. He's going to attend somewhere I can afford and that is final! " Ed's voice raised another decibel.

"I think it's time for you to leave." Carlisle interjected.

"You can't tell me -"

"Look, Ed, it's late. We will talk more about this when everyone has calmed down, but right now you need to go. This isn't getting us anywhere."

Around the corner, Edward buried his head in his hands. He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, physically trying to push back the tears that threatened to fall. Sure, he had heard his parents fight before, but he had never heard his father say such harsh things to Carlisle. It was hard enough balancing his two fathers when everyone got along. He loved them both, but right now, he felt torn.

"Did you hear all that?"

Edward lifted his head and looked at his mother standing at the foot of the steps. Seeing her son hurt caused her chest to tighten. She never wanted him to hear that, knowing he would feel caught in the middle.

"This isn't your fault, Edward." She tried to reassure him.

"Right." He sighed and stood, not believing a word Esme said. Facts were facts. He was unplanned and his unexpected arrival put undue stress on his parents. Eliminate him from the equation for a few years and they might have made it. Of course, that would mean no Carlisle and that didn't sit well with him either. It was all so confusing to a seventeen year old boy.

Looking back, Edward didn't quite understand what set him off so badly—why he reacted the way he did. The weeks following his family's argument left him feeling detached. In the beginning he missed dinner a few times. This progressed until he was staying out late, breaking curfew. He simply didn't want to be home.

He knew his behavior was uncalled for, but despite what his rational mind told him his feelings became overwhelming, escalating to their peak the night Edward attended a party after a baseball game.

Something he normally did.

Except this time he drank.

A lot.

Something he never did.

"What is wrong with you?" Bella snapped after pushing Edward's wandering hands safely to her waist for the third time.

"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you? I'm trying to pay attention to my girlfriend, but apparently she's turned into a -"

"Stop! Don't you finish that sentence, Edward Cullen. Don't you dare. You know what? If you're going to be like this then just take me home." Bella stood and stomped into the house, pushing through the crowd of people to grab her jacket out of the closet. She fought back tears not wanting to cry in front of everyone from school. Edward had never spoken to her that way. By the time she made it outside his words had played on repeat so many times in her head, the tears won out and streamed down her cheek.

"C'mon, B. You seriously want to leave?" Edward asked.

She whirled around on him. "Are you kidding me right now? Yes I want to leave! I don't want to stay when my boyfriend's decided to turn into a jackass."

"Are you crying?" he asked incredulously.

"You're drunk, Edward. This is not you." She ignored his question, grabbing his letterman's jacket instead, and tried to reason with him. Taking a few deep breaths to clear her head she continued. "Let me drive you home. We can talk about what's been bothering you."

"Don't you get it?" He lost his cool at the mention of the home he'd been avoiding. "I don't want to go home!"

"You know what? Either you come home with me now, or we're done." Bella had no intention of following through with that threat. She loved Edward too much to leave him, but right now she knew he was in trouble and she hoped her bluff would get him to comply.

She turned and set off for the car, not waiting to see if he followed. Thankfully he did, but pissed and drunk was not a great combination while trying to navigate the uneven terrain of the field they parked in. So when he stumbled and Bella reached out her hand to steady him, he had jerked away so hard in anger that it knocked her off balance. Bella tumbled to the ground, twisting her ankle.

Realizing what he had done sobered Edward immediately. "Oh God, baby," he breathed reaching for her.

"Don't touch me," she spat angrily.

Her words hit him like ice biting into his skin. She had never spoken to him like that before, had never denied his touch. Even when he was drunkenly pawing at her a few minutes ago, she simply moved his hands back to a more appropriate place.

The self loathing and guilt fought to consume him and only added to the melancholy he'd found himself in instead of shaking him to the core as it should have done.

Bella sat on the ground trying to pull herself together. The Edward standing next to her was not her Edward. She knew he was hurting. If someone didn't help him soon, he was heading for a dark path.

Her following actions proved how much she truly loved him, showing maturity beyond her seventeen years. She stood, wiped her tears and brushed herself off. Without a word she fished Edward's keys out of his pants pocket and limped around to the driver's side. She got in and cranked the car, leaning over to push the passenger side door open. Sitting with both hands on the steering wheel staring straight ahead, she waited patiently until Edward succumbed to his fate and got in the car.

When they arrived at his house she barged in none too quietly, making sure Esme and Carlisle were aware of their presence. The night ended with Carlisle, Esme, his father - whom Carlisle had called as soon as they took one look at him - and Bella all wrapped around him as he sobbed out the feelings he had been harboring for almost a month.

The next day he found himself in Pastor Andy's office, his butt forcibly sat in a chair by Carlisle and his father. Edward expected Andy to pass judgement. He expected him to lecture him about obeying his parents and abusing alcohol, but the man who would become one of his best friends did none of those things. Instead, he listened and let Edward tell him everything he was feeling. Just getting everything off his chest made him feel better.

Pastor Andy and Edward spent the rest of the spring together, meeting to hit balls on the driving range or throwing football at the park. Sometimes they talked about more weighty things and philosophized, but most of the time they just shot the breeze. Andy didn't know it, but he single handedly changed Edward's perspective—about church...about God...about life.

Therefore, with renewed faith, Edward entered his senior year. And somehow, Bella was still at his side.


	2. Chapter 2

The referee's whistle brought Edward back to the present as the defensive line trotted off the field, having held the South Clallam Patriots at their own forty five yard line. Pastor Andy handed him his helmet and swatted him on the rear.

"This is your game number five! Go get 'em!"

As Edward ran toward the huddle, he looked into the stands to see his family. His father and Carlisle sat next to each other, Carlisle pointing at the field and talking animatedly about something. His mother sat beside him shaking a pom pom in front of his brother and sister, making them giggle.

"Hey man, you good?" Emmett asked, bringing Edward's attention back to his teammates.

"As long as you keep covering my behind, I'll be good. Alright, truffle shuffle, Newton up the middle for the fakey and flying high to Whitlock."

The team set up at the line of scrimmage. The center snapped the ball. Edward faked the handoff and dropped back three steps looking for Whitlock down the field as Emmett blocked, buying him a little time. But then big man Brian Murphy slipped by, Emmett having lost his footing, and barrelled toward him. Out of time, Edward prayed Jasper would shake loose from his defender. He let the ball go right as Murphy made contact, taking him to the ground.

Hard.

Edward squeezed his eyes shut, his chest tight. It felt as if a thousand pound weight was sitting on top of him. He couldn't get a deep breath as the blood rushed through his ears. Dazed, he opened and closed his eyes repeatedly, trying to blink away the blurriness. Edward focused on not panicking. He hated getting the wind knocked out of him, but it had happened before. Finally, the weight lifted and he sucked in a cleansing breath only to notice the fire in his wrist spreading up to his shoulder. He clutched it to his chest as first Emmett, then Pastor Andy and Coach Green arrived, standing over the top of him.

"You OK, kid?" Coach Green asked.

"Yeah," Edward grunted out as Pastor Andy probed his neck with his fingers. "Just rung my bell a bit."

"Does anything hurt?"

"I'm OK." He tried to sit up, but Andy pushed back to the ground.

"Name?"

"Edward Anthony Masen."

"Birthday?"

"November 6, 1993."

"Why is that play called the truffle - shuffle?"

"Cause McCarty yells chunk every time Newton cuts up the middle. Maybe if he wasn't yelling chunk he might actually pay attention to the mammoth busting through the offensive line," he said smirking at Emmett as Andy, finally satisfied, let him sit up. Accepting Emmett's outstretched hand, he got to his feet shaking off any lingering effects from the hit.

If Edward played well before, he played like a man possessed the rest of the game. His offensive line tightened up, creating holes straight through the middle and giving Edward all the time in the world to make plays. The Forks High Spartans ended with an impressive 80 yard drive over thirteen plays for an easy 27-17 victory.

Edward looked to the stands where his family sat to see his father and Carlisle shaking hands with a known scout from the University of Southern California. Bella and Edward both received their acceptance letters late last spring. Now the couple only waited to see if the much needed scholarships and financial aid would come through. Edward wondered if tonight may have been his ticket. His eyes slid to his mother, who stood smiling down at him.

When Esme saw she had her son's attention she clasped her hands together and shook them in triumph over her head. Her son was going to the college of his dreams to play the sport he loved. She watched as Edward's smile lit his whole face before he jumped in the air hooting and hollering. He ran towards Bella then and flung his arms around her waist, lifting her feet off the ground and spinning her in a circle. Renee slid her arm through Esme's, hooking it in her elbow as they watched Bella's face question Edward before breaking into a beautiful smile of her own. She grabbed his cheeks and pulled his face to hers, kissing him soundly before he spun her one more time laughing.

Esme squeezed Renee's arm. "Is Bella going to be able to go?"

"Do you honestly think her Daddy can tell her no?" She laughed a little. "Could you imagine us telling her she couldn't go with Edward?"

"Edward wouldn't go without her," Esme said.

"And that is definitely not happening. This is a wonderful opportunity for him and for her. They have a wonderful sports medicine program. We'll make it work somehow even if we have to host car washes and donut sales for the next four years."

The two women watched as their children kissed one more time before Edward headed toward the field house. His steps slowed as he approached the group of reporters and photographers gathered outside the door. He hated talking to reporters. He never knew what to say and he felt the pressure of representing his team well.

"Edward! Great game tonight!" Jerome Richard, a reporter for the Forks Forum greeted.

"Thanks."

"You took a big hit out there in the third quarter. How do you feel?"

"I'm fine. Just rung my bell a bit." Edward fought the urge to rub his wrist, keeping the smile firmly fixed on his face.

"You had a strong second half."

"The offensive line was opening huge holes that anyone could run through. The receivers were making downfield blocks and the coaches made good calls," he said. "I give all the credit to them. They all helped me do what I did. It's not all on me."

"Humble as always, Masen. How do you boys plan to celebrate?"

"I want a steak dinner," Emmett yelled from where he waited, leaning against the side of the field house. He was already showered and dressed. Edward was sure Emmett would give him hell about his fanboys at the Forks Forum.

"I have to feed my offensive line," Edward said. "I'll take them to Zack's or something."

"This place is disgusting." Bella grimaced as she watched Emmett and Edward shove yet another hot dog in their mouths. She'd lost count at five. Zack's was somewhat of a local legend. Even people from the surrounding towns drove into Forks to eat their famous hot dogs. Bella didn't get it. The thought made her stomach turn. She didn't understand how the place hadn't been shut down for health code violations.

Zack, the owner for which the establishment was named, was huge—bigger than any human had a right to be and not in a good way. He had long, tight curly hair that he kept stuffed under a hair net. His skin appeared shiny, slick with perspiration from standing over a hot grill all day. People loved the place because the guy was a showman. He'd line up no less than fifteen hotdog buns on his sweaty, meaty arms—slapping them full of toppings to complete people's orders. Bella could just imagine the sweat soaking into the bottom of the buns.

"You about ready to go, pretty girl?" Edward leaned over looking for a kiss.

Bella pulled back and Edward frowned. "You're not getting your arm sweat mouth anywhere near mine."

"You have arm sweat mouth? I thought you only had a Coke. You been kissing Zack again?" he teased.

"Shut up." She smacked his arm laughing. "You know what I mean."

He grinned, leaning in to kiss her just below her ear instead.

The pair said goodbye to their friends and walked hand in hand to Edward's car. He opened the passenger side door and waited for Bella to get settled before he ran around to the driver's side.

"Are you excited about USC?" Bella asked once they were on the road. She tried to sound excited, but her tone was off.

"Are you?" he asked, knowing immediately there was more to the question than just the surface.

She looked down at her lap, wringing her hands together until Edward reached over and took her hand in his. "Talk to me, pretty girl."

"I don't think we can afford it. I've applied for scholarships but..."

"Baby, I'm not going without you."

"Are you kidding me right now, Edward? Playing USC ball is your dream. I can't let you pass that up for me."

Pulling into her driveway, Edward put the car in park and killed the engine. He glanced at Bella who looked to be on the verge of tears and blinked once before getting out of the car. He opened the passenger side door and offered her his hand. She took it and he pulled her to her feet, guiding her back against the side of the car. Edward leaned in, allowing his weight to press against her. He needed to feel her—for her to feel him. He wanted her to know how much he meant what he was about to say and hoped his physical presence would provide that assurance.

"Listen to me." He cupped her cheek, threading his fingers through her hair. "I'm not going anywhere without you."

"Ed-" she tried to protest but he cut her off.

"No, Bella. I can play ball anywhere. Almost every college in the country has a football program, but there is only one of you anywhere in this entire world. I could never give you up. You're my life."

Bella dropped her eyes and shook her head. Edward ducked down, making sure he could look into her eyes. "What? You don't know this?"

"I know, but you're mine, too and I want what's best for you."

"You're what's best for me."

She smiled and melted into him as he pressed his lips chastely to hers. Bella's hands slid from where they'd been resting against his chest down until she hooked her fingers in the pockets of his khakis. She pulled him gently to her as his tongue slipped between her lips. Edward pressed his hips into hers. He couldn't help the groan that escaped him as she sighed into his mouth. He deepened the kiss, his hands sliding from her rib cage up her waist until his thumbs grazed the side of her breasts.

Knowing they were getting out of hand he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers. They stood quietly his hands safely back at her waist while hers encircled his neck, both catching their breath.

"You sure God hasn't changed His views on fornication? It's been a long time since the Bible was written," Bella asked only half joking.

He gave her a soft smile. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. Not for that. I respect you so much for it. You're a different person than you were last spring. I can see that. I never want you to compromise what you believe."

"You really understand? You don't think I'm weird?"

"No," she chuckled. "And I'm not trying to make it harder." Edward snorted at this. "Ok, bad choice of words. Perv." She swatted him, making him laugh. He leaned in and kissed her gently once more. "I love you, Edward."

"I know."

"I want to be with you so bad it hurts sometimes."

"I know. I want the same thing. Believe me when I say it is the toughest thing I have ever done. I just want to do right by you. I want to see you graduate college and have a career." Bella reached up, running her fingers through his hair to relax him as she heard the tension marring his tone. "I don't want us to end up like my parents."

"We're not your parents," she told him, her voice full of promise.

"I know, but—" He paused, taking a minute to gather his thoughts. "I love you. I want you in my life forever. I've known that for as long as I can remember. I'm going to make you my wife one day and I promise when we make love for the first time, it's going to be amazing and it's going to be right."

"Soon?" Bella couldn't help but wonder.

Edward pulled back, smirking. "You'd say yes?"

"I said yes twelve years ago."

"Bella, you were five twelve years ago."

She stood up on her tiptoes, brushing her lips softly against his. "I still meant it." Edward's smile lit his whole face. "Good night," she whispered. She pulled away and walked toward her front porch.

Edward watched until the door opened. "Good night, Mrs. Masen!" he teased.

Her answering laughter kept him company all the way home.

**A/N: I don't really have anything to say, but I always feel obligated to leave an author's note. So, this is my author's note. LOL That's probably how some of you all feel about reviews...**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Calm before the storm...**

Before Edward even opened his eyes Saturday morning, he knew he was going to have a rough day. He was sore from head to toe and the fire in his wrist had returned one hundred fold. He sat up slowly, his back stiff, and finally opened his eyes. He blinked away the morning blurriness and took his time getting to the shower. Apparently, he had been hit harder than he thought.

Once in the bathroom, he decided an Epsom salt bath may be a better idea. He filled the clawfoot tub, making the water as hot as he could stand and shook out a healthy amount of salt. When it dissolved sufficiently, he shed his boxers and sunk down in the water up to his chin. Immediately the soreness and tension in his muscles unwound, but his wrist still hurt. He hoped he hadn't fractured it. The last thing he needed was to be sidelined his senior year. He wondered if it would affect his potential scholarship to USC. Sighing, he pushed those thoughts away, not needing to go down that path. He closed his eyes rubbing at the tiredness with his good hand and concentrated on relaxing.

The next thing he knew, Edward awoke to a light tapping on the bathroom door. "Edward, are you OK?" his mother asked, a hint of worry in her tone.

"Yeah. Sorry. I must have fallen asleep."

"Bella's here and breakfast is ready. Why don't you get dressed and come downstairs?"

"OK. I'll be down in a minute."

He pulled the plug in the drain and braced his hands on the edge of the tub to push himself up. The intense pain was sudden and worse than anything he'd felt, shooting from the tips of his fingers up his entire arm to his shoulder. Edward bit his lip to keep from crying out and held his breath. He counted to thirty in his head before blowing out and sucking in another lung full. Eventually the pain dulled, but he wasn't sure he didn't need help getting out of the tub. He could call Carlisle to come help, but he didn't want to alarm anyone not to mention how humiliating it would be. Somehow he maneuvered around onto his knees and was able to stand. Popping two Aleve, he threw back a glass of water before pulling on a pair of basketball shorts and a t-shirt.

Esme and Bella's laughter filled the house as he reached the bottom of the stairs, the smell of pancakes greeting him. He strolled into the kitchen, kissing his mother on the cheek to distract her from catching him thieve a piece of bacon.

"Rascal," she smiled, swatting him on the butt with her dish towel.

He spun Bella around on her barstool so he could give her a proper good morning kiss. "Morning, pretty girl."

"Here you go, champ." Renee handed him a cup of coffee.

"Is Charlie working today?" he asked Bella, taking a swallow.

"Yep."

"So you're mine all day?"

"Yours all day," she smiled.

The two families, minus Charlie, enjoyed breakfast. The topic of last night's game and the impression Edward made on the scout monopolized a large part of the conversation. He flexed the fingers of his sore hand. The pain had dulled some, the Aleve he'd taken earlier having done its job. Still, he was glad it was his left wrist and not his right. He threw with his right. He ate breakfast with his right.

He kept his left hand hidden under the table.

When breakfast finished, Edward grabbed Bella's hand and tugged her out of her seat. His favorite way to spend a Saturday was hanging out with his girl without any real plans. Carlisle, who sat in the living room reading the morning paper, raised his eyebrows as Edward pulled Bella up the stairs to his room.

"Door open you two." Edward rolled his eyes good naturedly causing Carlisle to shake his head, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

Upstairs, Bella sat on the bed while Edward fired up his computer and opened iTunes, choosing his Lazy Saturday playlist. Smiling he crawled onto the bed, resting against the headboard and pulled Bella to lay against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her temple.

Bella's eyes slipped closed. It was quiet, only the music filling the room. She loved this—laying in his arms, surrounded by his smell—simply content to be with each other. "You looked great last night—like you'd been playing quarterback all you life." Her voice was quiet, reflecting the peace that settled over her anytime Edward held her.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I'm so proud of you."

"It felt good."

"Are you planning on hitting balls with Andy today?"

"Nah. I'm a little sore from yesterday. Thought I might take it easy."

Worried, she sat up, turning so she sat facing him. Edward never complained. Once, during his freshman year, he broke his arm in practice. He didn't tell anyone for a week, afraid he might miss a game. He ended up in a cast, sidelined for two months.

Running her fingers through his hair, her eyes raked over his body. Edward chuckled and grabbed her hand. "Calm down. I'm fine."

"Promise?"

"Has Mom and Renee figured out where we're staying for Thanksgiving?"

"Edward—"

"I'm fine. Come on, you don't want to stay at a crab's den like we did last year do you?"

Bella eyed him skeptically. His refusal to answer the question worried her, but she decided to drop it for now. "Mom hasn't said anything, yet."

"We should find some places and make suggestions. Maybe we can talk them into letting us have our own room." He waggled his eyebrows, sliding his arms around her waist, pulling her back to him.

"Yeah, cause that should help us in our purity pledge," she snorted, but settled back down against him anyway. Bella's use of the word "our" didn't slip Edward's notice. Her views may have differed from his—he was almost positive she would be naked in seconds if he would just give in—but she respected his beliefs.

Edward wasn't sure how exactly they had been together so long and never actually crossed that bridge. The trick was not allowing themselves into situations that would get them in trouble. Bella's house always proved more difficult because her parents were so relaxed about everything. They could lay on the couch with a blanket over them and Renee and Charlie had absolutely no qualms about him being in her room with the door shut for extended periods of time.

They could have gotten away with murder.

They'd come close, their teenage hormones getting the best of them sometimes. It was so hard not to be intimate with someone he loved so deeply—to deny his baser instincts. The two had been watching Salem's Lot one night and it scared Bella stupid. She burrowed deeper and deeper in his arms until every inch of her body was pressed against his. What started out as innocent kisses turned into something altogether different. And as more and more skin was discovered Edward simply couldn't find the willpower to stop until they'd crossed a line he was uncomfortable crossing, though the actual act of sex never took place.

But that was last spring—before his little meltdown—and he had been a different person. He felt they were more successful in their endeavors lately, mostly due to smarter decisions—not putting themselves in situations that afforded the opportunity. One thing was for certain, lying with Bella on his bed while his mind took a trip down memory lane was not helping the situation. He kissed the top of her head and reluctantly peeled himself away to sit in his desk chair.

Edward opened Safari and the two spent the next two hours researching hotels with vacancies the week of Thanksgiving. At first their search was unrealistic, dreaming about five star hotels and room service, but eventually they came back down to earth. Carlisle and Esme both taught at the middle school—his mother, a special education teacher while his stepfather taught social studies and coached football. Bella's mother worked for the school system as well, taking care of student records in the office at an elementary school, while her father worked for a heating and cooling systems company. Five star was not an option. They _did _prefer, however, not having the whole room smell of cigarettes or finding used condoms beside the bathroom toilet.

True story.

In the end, Bella and Edward narrowed it down to three options they both liked within their parents' budget. They printed out the pictures and information, highlighting the amenities they liked about each. The plan was to present the research to their mom's at lunch after church the next day.

Satisfied with their afternoon accomplishments, Edward reached forward and grabbed Bella around the waist, pulling her from her perch on the edge of the bed onto his lap.

"We're going to Meemaw's for dinner. Come with me?" he asked.

"You know I can't pass up her fried chicken."

"And here I thought you might want to spend a little more time with me. You just using me to get to Meemaw?"

"Hmmm," she hummed, placing her finger against her lips, feigning indecision.

Edward dug the fingers of his right hand into her ribs and Bella shrieked in laughter. "Stop! Stop! I want to spend time with you! Only you!"

He continued until she wriggled right out of his lap, tumbling to the floor and pulling him with her. He landed on top of her, stifling a sob that threatened to tear out of his chest, having landed on his wrist. Thankfully, Bella was laughing and smiling, oblivious to his pain. It gave him time to force a smile back on his face.

"Is what I have on OK?" she asked.

"You're perfect," he told her, pressing his lips to hers.

**A/N: Hubs and I took a purity pledge and kept it for FIVE LOOOOONG YEARS before we got married. Yes. You can leave me a review as applause for that.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Don't hate me.**

"Why don't you drive?" Edward suggested. Bella frowned, but didn't press the issue. Edward normally drove, but the pain from tumbling out of his desk chair had not waned. His car had a manual transmission and the mere thought of holding the steering wheel with his left so he could shift with his right made him nauseous.

They walked over to her car, Bella making her way to the driver's side as Edward climbed in the passenger seat fastening his seat belt. Turning the ignition and shifting the car into reverse, Bella backed out of the driveway. Once on the road headed toward Edward's grandmother's house she reached over searching for his hand. Her fingers brushed his causing him to jerk away. He shifted his eyes to hers, gauging her reaction, though he was certain he didn't cover that well at all. Giving her a tight smile, he settled for resting his hand on her leg instead.

"What's going on, Edward?"

"I'm fi-"

"And don't say you're fine. You had to soak in the tub this morning. You kept your hand hidden under the table throughout breakfast. And don't think I missed what happened when you fell out of the chair. You said you were sore, but there's more to it isn't there?"

"I didn't think you noticed."

"I was trusting you to tell me."

"I'm sorry. I landed on my wrist funny. It kind of burns and anytime I put any pressure on my hand it just..." he trailed off, sighing in frustration.

"Did you take anything?"

"Some Aleve. It dulled it some, but never went away. It's worn off."

"You need to let Carlisle know. Last time you did this you had a broken arm."

"I know. Just give me one more day to see if it gets better. I got a lot riding on this season. If it's not better tomorrow, I'll talk to him."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

The pain didn't get any better though, only progressively worse. By the time they reached his grandmother's, Edward's whole arm throbbed, radiating into his back and he was definitely nauseous. Meemaw had cooked his favorite meal in celebration—fried chicken, mashed potatoes with gravy, and green beans—but he didn't think he could stomach it.

He excused himself from the table and trudged to the bathroom at the end of the hall. Closing the lid of the toilet seat, he sat and without thinking of the consequences, dropped his head to his hands in frustration. The action sent another fire up his arm and he reared back from the pain. Tears of frustration welled up before he could stop them. There was no doubt now, something was really wrong—probably fractured or at the very least a severe sprain.

A thousand thoughts rushed headlong, crashing over him like a tidal wave. If he saw a doctor would his season be over? And if it was could he lose his potential for a scholarship? His parents couldn't afford USC. Even though he told Bella it didn't matter, and he was telling the truth when he said he would go wherever she went, he couldn't deny that playing USC ball was his dream.

He stood, pacing back and forth until he came to a stop in front of the mirror. Observing his reflection, even he could see the tension in his features—the pain laced in the creases at the corner of his eyes and mouth. Edward's first inclination had been to hide it, play through the pain and then see someone after the season was over, but he knew now he wasn't going to be able to cover it up.

Pure rage flooded his veins at the injustice of it all. He grabbed one of his grandmother's pill bottles and flung it against the wall to keep from putting his fist through the mirror. The lid flew off as it made contact, pills tinkling across the tile floor like rain drops—like the tears that fell freely from his eyes.

"Edward?" Bella called through the door. "Are you OK?" He could tell she was worried and he wondered how much of his outburst she managed to hear.

"Yes." He hoped his voice didn't betray him. Turning on the sink, he splashed cold water on his face. He knew he had to pull himself together or his family was going to get suspicious. After drying his hands, he knelt down and picked up the pills, putting them back in the bottle. He retrieved the cap and placed it on the bottle, twisting it closed when his eyes fell on the label.

_Take two every four hours for pain. Do not exceed 6 in a 24 hour period. _

_Methodone._

His grandmother's pain medication. She suffered from fibromyalgia. Edward stared unblinkingly at the bottle—simply holding it—rolling it around in his palm with no real, conscious thought in his mind. Shaking his head to snap himself out of the sudden funk that had settled over him, he sat the bottle back on the sink. Just then, a pain shot up his arm so severe it took his breath away.

He snatched the bottle off the sink, popped the cap and dumped two pills into his hand, shoving them in his pocket. One more day. That's all he needed. If it wasn't better in the morning he would talk to Carlisle, just like he promised Bella. Until then, he'd grin and bear it and if the pain became more than he could handle he could take the pain pills.

Only if he needed them. He promised.

Edward opened the door to find Bella leaning against the wall, waiting for him.

She didn't even ask. "You're not OK."

"Yeah," he admitted, leaning his forehead into hers.

"It's all going to work out Edward. Please, tell Carlisle. We could go to the hospital tonight. The sooner you get treated the sooner you can play."

"I will. I promise. Tomorrow. I'm just really tired. Can you just take me home so I can crash?"

Against her better judgement Bella caved. She could see Edward was exhausted.

Sliding his hand down her arm, he laced his fingers with hers and led the way to the kitchen to kiss his parents and Meemaw goodbye.

The ride home was quiet. Edward let his head fall back against the headrest and closed his eyes. He must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew they were in his driveway, Bella's hand resting softly against his cheek.

"Come in for a few minutes?" he asked.

"You need to take care of yourself. Maybe another salt bath would help?"

"Just a few minutes. Please, pretty girl. I need you close to me right now," he whispered.

Edward unlocked the house and Bella followed him up the stairs to his room. He closed the door behind him and pulled her into his arms. She raised an eyebrow and he rolled his eyes.

"A few minutes. Nothing crazy. You know me." He tried to smile, but knew he was failing miserably.

Edward was acting strangely, or stranger than the first time he'd hidden an injury like this. She knew he was in pain, but this was different and it scared Bella. Edward had played football all his life. He'd been hurt before. This was nothing like before. The weight of the world seemed to sit squarely between his shoulders, his posture literally hunched under the load. She could feel the fear and frustration radiating off of him.

Bella stepped back until the backs of her knees hit the edge of his bed. She sat, carefully pulling him with her. He came willingly, turning to lay on his back. Bella crawled over the top of him, settling between his legs. She ran her hands through his hair and gently over his face. Tracing the shell of his ear. Ghosting over his eyelids as they slipped shut at her touch. Drifting down to skim across his lips.

Bella believed in God, but didn't quite have the same relationship Edward had developed over the last few months, but tonight she couldn't help but pray. She prayed her touch would ground him. She prayed that God would take the pain from his wrist, but most of all she prayed he would come out from under this sudden depression that seemed to swallow him over the course of a day.

Edward pressed his lips to hers then, soft, slow open mouth kisses. Bella wanted to crush him to her, to crawl inside him and never come out, but Edward never pushed past gentle, sleepy brushes of his mouth over hers. It was maddening. He ended with three chaste, closed mouth kisses before stopping to bury his face in Bella's neck. Closing his eyes, he breathed in deeply trying to calm his racing heart.

He reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear. "I guess you better go."

"Edward—"

"It's ok. I'll see you at church in the morning—first thing."

"Then you'll go to the doctor?"

"Then I'll go to the doctor."

Bella crawled off of him to leave, but not before bending over to give him one final kiss. Just as she pulled away there was a brief knock at Edward's door before it opened and Esme appeared. She looked from Bella to Edward, who was still laying on the bed, and back again.

Bella smiled tightly. She'd had known Esme all her life and considered her a close friend. Still, it was awkward to have been caught with the door closed especially considering their position a moment earlier.

"Goodnight, Esme. See you at church tomorrow."

Esme leaned in and kissed Bella on the cheek. "Bye, sweetheart."

With Bella gone, Esme turned to her son. "Are you going to bed already? It's awfully early."

"Nah. I was going to take a bath before bed."

"Two in one day, Edward? You must be really sore."

"I'm fine, Ma. Just stiff."

"Alright," she said, stroking the top of his head affectionately. She sat down on the edge of the bed and picked up his hand, holding it between the two of hers. Her touch was soft and gentle. Edward sighed and closed his eyes. His mother had always been able to soothe him whether he had a stomach ache or a sore throat or even simply scraped his knee. He felt too old to still need his mother this way, but tonight he didn't care. He squeezed her hand and brought it to his face.

The action tugged at Esme's heart. It seemed like yesterday she was dropping him off for his first day of kindergarten and then suddenly he was all grown up—tall enough to tuck her under his arm and rest his chin on top of her head. Grown up enough to talk about colleges and scholarships and football scouts.

"I'm so proud of you. Do you know that?" she asked, squeezing his hand in return.

"I'm just glad I can take some of the financial burden off yours and Dad's shoulders."

"Not just your scholarship, Edward, though that makes me proud, too, but the person you've become as a son, as a leader at your school, someone people look up to. And your relationship with Bella—you have no idea what it is like to not have to worry about the two of you like so many other parents do. Though after tonight I have to ask—I still don't have to worry about you and Bella do I? No premature grandbabies?"

"No, Ma. No babies, though you may have to worry about me asking her to marry me."

"Didn't you already do that twelve years ago?"

Edward laughed. Esme leaned over and kissed his cheek then licked her finger and rubbed the lipstick off his face.

"Love you."

"Love you too, Ma."

Edward hauled himself off the bed and stumbled to the bathroom after Esme said goodnight. He prepared the bath and soaked until his skin shriveled up, but still nothing touched the pain. After drying off, he pulled on a clean pair of boxers and slipped under the covers. He laid back against his pillow, holding his wrist up to exam it under the lamp light. It was swollen and discolored with bruising.

Definitely broken, he thought.

Tears leaked out of his eyes as defeat set in. His season was probably over. He would talk to Carlisle in the morning. He wanted nothing more than to sleep, but knew he would be fighting a losing battle with the pain in his wrist. Resigned, he leaned over the edge of the bed and retrieved his jeans from the floor, searching through the pockets until he produced the two pills he'd taken from his grandmother's house. He threw them in his mouth and dry swallowed them, turned out the lights and waited for sleep.

Sunday mornings were always chaotic in the Cullen household. Carlisle and Esme tag-teamed the twins—Esme fighting Katie's dress while Carlisle herded Kyle into the bathroom to brush his teeth after breakfast.

"Have you heard Edward stirring yet?" Esme asked as she sat Katie on the bathroom counter to start her hair.

"Not a peep," Carlisle answered.

"Here Katie, be a big girl and brush your hair while I go wake your brother."

Esme climbed the stairs and knocked on Edward's door. He'd always been a pretty heavy sleeper so the lack of response didn't surprise her. She opened the door to find him laying on his stomach still burrowed deep under the covers. "Come on, lazy," she teased. "We're going to be late for church." She sat on the edge of the bed and reached out to shake the foot poking out from under the blanket.

When her skin made contact with his, her heart stalled. He was cool to the touch. "Edward?" she called, the pitch and volume of her voice giving way to the rising panic. "Edward!" She reached for his shoulder, turning him over on his back to find his face ashen—his lips blue.

"Carlisle! Call 911!" she screamed, cradling her son's head to her chest.

**A/N: I know that is a terrible cliffy. I am working on chapter 5 right now and will post as soon as possible. Remember...don't hate.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: So I got this out a day early. Don't hate.**

**Based on a true story.**

Carlisle flew into the room with his cell pressed firmly to his ear, the sound of Katie and Kyle's cries trailing behind him. Katie stumbled into Edward's room, her eyes widening at the sight of her older brother cradled in her mother's arms.

"Mommy?"

"Go downstairs, Katie."

"Is Edward sick?"

"I said go downstairs!" Esme screamed, tears spilling over. Katie had never heard her mother yell like that. Frightened she ran down the stairs and found Kyle, tugging him to sit on the couch and wait for their parents.

Back upstairs, Carlisle had passed the phone to Esme. His son wasn't breathing. He pinched his nose closed and covered his mouth with his own. Carlisle inhaled and then exhaled slowly, watching Edward's chest rise. He inhaled again and repeated.

Esme's words blurred into the background as she told the 911 operator how she'd found her son when she tried to wake him for church. Carlisle focused solely on delivering the life giving oxygen. He pulled back and checked Edward's pulse. It was faint, but still there.

One—one thousand.

Two—one thousand.

Three—one thousand.

Four—one thousand.

Five—one thousand.

He counted methodically and delivered the next two breaths. He robotically repeated the process, pushing everything else away—fighting the thoughts threatening to suffocate him. _What happened? How long has he been like this? Dear God._

Faintly a siren sounded in the distance, progressively getting louder. Esme ran down the stairs and opened the door. The men followed her up the stairs. She watched numbly as they took over for Carlisle, securing Edward before carrying him down the stairs and loading him in the back of the ambulance.

"You ride with him," Carlisle said to Esme. "I've got Katie and Kyle."

Esme just shook her head. She couldn't process what was happening. "Go!" Carlisle's words jarred her into motion and she climbed in the back of the ambulance as it pulled out of the driveway, siren screaming toward Forks Medical Center.

"Daddy?" Katie let go of Kyle's hand and ran to Carlisle as soon as he entered the house. Carlisle took her hand and led her back to the couch, grabbing her's and Kyle's shoes along the way. She climbed back on the couch, watching as her father knelt, unlaced her shoe and rocked it onto her foot. "Is Edward sick?"

"Yes, baby. Edward's sick. Mommy's taking him to the doctor." His voice shook as he battled to keep it together.

Carlisle finished with Katie and turned to Kyle who had yet to say a word, his little face pale. He tied Kyle's shoes and stood. "Come on," he said, holding his hand out. "We need to get in the car."

Kyle shook his head. Not having time to fool with it, Carlisle grabbed Kyle's hand and jerked him off the couch. Frightened, Kyle cried out setting Katie off as well. Desperate to get to Edward, Carlisle snatched Kyle up in his arms and suddenly found the reason for his hesitancy.

He'd wet his pants.

Only then did it dawn on Carlisle what the twins must have witnessed. Their brother, whom they idolized, had been carried lifeless out of the house—their mother crying and hysterical. Carlisle immediately dropped to his knees and set Kyle down. The little boy threw his arms around his father's neck.

"I'm sorry, Daddy."

"No, baby, Daddy's sorry," Carlisle said pulling first Kyle then Katie to him. He held them as long as he felt he could, but the pull to get to the hospital to be with Edward and Esme soon won out. He told Katie to wait on the couch and took Kyle to his room to change. Once the twins were buckled into their car seats, he grabbed his cell and dialed Edward's father.

He found Esme in the waiting room, her head buried in her hands. She looked up, her eyes locking with his momentarily before she was out of her seat rushing into his arms. "What are they saying?" Carlisle asked when they broke apart.

"He's unresponsive. They have him on a breathing machine."

"What happened?"

"They don't know."

"Have you talked to Bella? She was with him last night."

"Oh, God, Carlisle. I didn't even think—"

"I'll call Charlie. She doesn't need to hear this over the phone."

Esme nodded her head and sat down, wrapping her arms around Katie and Kyle who'd crawled up on the bench beside her.

Bella stood outside her Sunday school room waiting for Edward. She'd been on edge all morning after not sleeping well the previous night. She needed to see him before she crawled out of her own skin. Glancing at her watch again, she sighed in frustration, before looking up to see her parents walking down the hallway toward her. Her stomach dropped, instinctively knowing something was not right. She shook her head—the tears forming already.

"Bells," Charlie said, her mother wrapping her arm around her waist, "Edward's been taken to the hospital."

"For his arm?" she asked.

"What's wrong with his arm?" her father questioned, hoping Bella might possibly be able to shed some light on Edward's situation.

"He hurt it Friday night. He was trying to hide it, but I think it's broken..." she trailed off as Charlie spun and walked away pulling his cell out of his pocket. "Mom?" She turned to Renee who had tears streaming down her face.

"Baby, did he take anything? Maybe something for the pain?"

"He said he took a couple Aleve."

"That's all?"

"Mom, you're scaring me."

Charlie walked back down the hallway stopping in front of them. "The toxicology report came back clean. They're life flighting him to Olympic Medical Center in Port Angeles."

"What happened?" Bella didn't understand what was going on—unable to comprehend what her parents were telling her. Edward had hurt his wrist. That was all. It was just his wrist. The thoughts flew through her mind as she tried to make sense of what she was hearing. How did a broken wrist lead to toxicology reports and life flights to Port Angeles?

Renee grabbed Bella by the shoulders, her grip tight and grounding. "Esme tried to wake him for church this morning. He wouldn't wake up. He wasn't breathing. They called 911 and took him to Forks Medical."

She couldn't think straight—her anxiety spiking right along with her heart rate. "Oh God. Is he going to be OK?" She could barely force the words out.

"I don't know, baby. That's all we know." Renee pulled Bella to her and wrapped her arms around. Only then did Bella realize how badly she was shaking.

With her parents' support, they helped her to the car. Renee climbed into the backseat coaxing Bella's head into her lap. Charlie grabbed a blanket from the trunk and draped it over her worried she was going into shock. The forty five minute drive to Port Angeles was the longest of Bella's life. Her emotions volleyed between extreme worry and extreme guilt. She had no idea what happened, but she knew one thing for certain. If she had demanded Edward to see a doctor sooner, this could have been avoided. By the time they arrived, Edward had been admitted to the pediatric intensive care unit. His heart was beating, but a ventilator was helping him breathe. The doctor's at Olympic ordered another toxicology screen, but it too was clean. No one had any answers.

The two families sat clinging to each other, Bella leaning into Esme as Esme stroked Bella's hair lovingly. Bella's phone buzzed in her pocket. She retrieved it to find a text from her friend Alice who had been dating Jasper Whitlock for the past two years.

_Pastor Andy is on his way. _

Bella cupped her hand over her mouth. Word traveled fast in a small town like Forks. The whole thing seemed surreal—like a bad dream. She didn't know why this particular event brought the sheer enormity of the situation into focus. Maybe it was because she hadn't been able to see him yet, but the thought of Pastor Andy making the near four hour trip made everything suddenly real. What was once dull and numbing suddenly cut in jagged, sharp edges. She needed to see him. She needed to put her hands on him and feel the rise and fall of his chest even if it was forced by some machine. She wanted to lay her head on him and hear his heartbeat. She needed to bury her nose in his neck and breathe in his scent.

Bella stood, unable to sit still any longer and approached the nurses station. "Please. Can anyone tell us anything about Edward Masen? What's going on? When can we see him?"  
"The doctor will be up to speak with you as soon as he can."

No sooner than the words were out of the nurses mouth, a middle aged man in blue scrubs rounded the corner.

"Edward Masen?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm his girlfriend. His family is in the waiting room."

The doctor followed Bella to where the rest of Edward's family waited. He introduced himself as Dr. Ellison. The family listened trying not to hope for fear it would only lead to greater devastation, but that is exactly where Dr. Ellison's words led them.

Hope.

Edward had been found not breathing when his mother tried to wake him Sunday morning. No one knew how long he'd gone without oxygen making brain damage, if he recovered at all, a real concern. Upon arriving at Olympic Medical Center he'd undergone a brain scan to check for activity. The scan not only picked up activity, but Edward had also taken a breath on his own.

Hope.

Though they fought it, it was undeniable. Esme squeezed Bella's hand. "When can we see him?"

"He should be back in his room now. We'll do another test tomorrow afternoon. Things should be more definite then."

Meanwhile, word spread throughout the football community as well as Forks High. Students flocked to Port Angeles, nearly two hundred fifty students to be exact. Typically the PICU only allowed two people at a time to visit the patient. However, as the night progressed as many as thirty people visited Edward at once. The others crowded the small chapel.

Friends and family gathered around his bed, laying down their own religious beliefs to sing hymns, led by Pastor Andy, in hopes of bringing comfort to Edward as well as each other. Esme clasped her son's hand tightly as the sounds of Amazing Grace filled the room, praying that he would somehow hear them—that he would find a way to hold on and push through whatever he was battling.

The hospital opened an entire wing for the visitors to gather. The Starbucks in Forks caught wind of the story and contacted the Starbuck in Port Angeles. An endless supply of pastries and coffee was made available to the family and friends keeping vigil.

Still the hospital was stretched to capacity and eventually had to turn people away. Those who loveEdward—the number greater than anyone imagined—felt the need to be together. Forks High opened its gym to students, providing another place to gather and pray. Edward had touched so many people with his quiet acceptance and his gentle spirit. He had never been one to buy into the various cliques so prevalent in high school. Instead he befriended people without regard for race, religious viewpoint or socioeconomic status. Parents and teachers alike marveled as groups of students banded together without scrutiny, providing support as they waited for word on Edward's condition.

Finally, in the wee hours of the morning, the crowd at the hospital thinned leaving only Edward and Bella's families. The morning passed slowly. Most of the family took turns keeping vigil, some holding his hands or stroking his face while others slept. Only Bella remained steadfast. She had never been more exhausted, but her mind simply wouldn't allow her body to rest. What if something changed while she was asleep? What if he woke up?

What if he didn't?

Monday passed slowly until finally the nurse came around 5:00 to take Edward for his scan. Bella leaned forward, pressing her lips to his gently before whispering in his ear, "You got this. I love you."

If Bella thought the day long before, it was simply torturous now. How long could a scan possibly take? An hour that felt like eternity later, the door opened as the nurses wheeled Edward's bed back into the room, followed by Dr. Ellison. Bella slipped her hand into Edward's as the nurse busied herself settling him back into the room. Bella tried not to look at Dr. Ellison, focusing her concentration solely on Edward—the weight of his hand in hers, the feel of his skin.

But, in the end she couldn't help herself. She glanced at the doctor and her heart plummeted. His face held no answers, fixed carefully with strict professionalism. But his eyes. His eyes were sad and she recognized a man fighting to deliver news that would shatter everything.

"The scan showed no activity." Bella closed her eyes as the words fell from his lips. "He's surviving on life support alone." She gripped Edward's hand tighter, pressing it to her cheek. Bella wondered how much longer she would have this—his skin against hers. Hours? Minutes? "I know this is hard, but as his parents we need you to decide whether or not to keep him on life support."

Bella lifted his hand, careful of the wires and moved his arm away from his body. She laid down in the V she created, tangling her legs with his and pressed her ear to his chest. Closing her eyes she concentrated on the rise and fall of his chest—the sound of his heart beneath her ear. She turned her face into his gown, fisting it in her hand as she breathed in his smell.

She thought she might scream as she listened to his parents ask questions about survival rate—the doctor spouting percentages. The odds were in no one's favor.

And then she felt it—the atmosphere in the room change. The actual words never registered as she listened to Edward's heart thump beneath his chest, but she knew instinctively that the decision had been made. The doctor disappeared then, leaving them to say their goodbyes. Charlie, Renee, Carlisle, Katie, Kyle, Edward, Sr. and finally Esme. Charlie led Katie and Kyle out of the room. They were too young to witness what would happen next. Bella wished she were too young. She wished someone would take her to the cafeteria where she could remain oblivious to the world and its injustice.

And then the doctor returned. She didn't see him come in, but she felt his presence behind her, next to the machine that kept all that was left of Edward with her. The machine that kept his chest rising and falling beneath her cheek. Edward's family gathered closer then, Esme leaning down to whisper her final words in his ear. Bella wondered what she was saying, how she had chosen the last words she would ever speak to her son. Bella wanted to say so much. How he had been her best friend. How much she would miss him. How angry she was at him for being here. He was suppose to be her first. He was suppose to be the person she spent the rest of her life with—her husband—and now all that was gone because he had been too stubborn.

"I love you," was all Bella managed in the end, breathed against the skin of his neck so softly no one else heard.

Bella watched as Esme lifted her head and nodded to the doctor. The small click made Bella jump—for to her it was as loud as a gunshot. The machine sighed one final time before silence filled the room.

She squeezed her eyes tight as Edward's chest rose once...twice...

And then his body stilled beneath hers.

"Time of death 7:54 PM. August 29th."

**A/N: So yeah...**

**I know this makes many of you have so many questions and some of you might be angry. This is excatly what the real family felt. They had know clue what happened to their son. They do have answers now and those will be shared in the last chapter which will be posted in a week if not sooner. Please stick with me. Even though Edward has passed away, something really awesome occured the Friday following his death. I hope you will keep reading and allow me to share that with you.**

**Much love,**

**bg30**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thanks to everyone for sticking around to read this final chapter. I really didn't know how this story would be received. **

**BPOV  
**  
Life. It can blindside you. Leave you breathless. Everything can be going your way; your education, your career, the love of your life and in one moment, the flip of a simple switch can tear it all away. Anything. Everything. It can all vanish.

I follow numbly behind Esme into the house. She moves to the kitchen, setting aside a plate of ham biscuits to make room for her purse. Dishes of this and bowls of that covers every available surface—food from neighbors and friends in the community. The smell makes me nauseous and I flee to the living room.

Carlisle sits in his recliner, staring out the patio door into the surrounding woods. Edward, Sr. sits next to him on the couch—elbows on his knees, head in his hands. Silence permeates the room, only the methodical ticking of the grandfather clock taps out the passing of time. No one speaks, lost in their own thoughts and grief. Mom and Dad have gone home to shower and change into fresh clothes. They want me to do the same, but I can't. It seems too final—returning home. Staying at Edward's house with his family and his things makes it feel like he isn't really gone—like he's simply at the corner store and will be back any minute.

Answers.

We have none. Only thousands of questions. I close my eyes and allow my mind to wander back to Friday night—Edward's eyes dancing with laughter as he teases me at Zack's. Normal. Happy.

Alive.

Now we wait. Wait and wait and wait, wanting some reason, some semblance of an answer or cause. I trudge up the stairs—sluggish, drained—finding myself in Edward's room. I pull open his dresser drawer, remove one of his sweatshirts and pull it over my head. Crawling into his bed I burrow down under the blankets, surrounding myself in his scent. With a pillow hugged to my chest I pretend it's him—my Edward—my head resting on his chest, the memory of its rise and fall permanently etched in my brain. But, in my pretend world—my fantasy—it never stops. Constant. Rhythmic. Rise and fall. Rise and fall until peace finds me and I escape into the darkness.

I don't know how long I sleep until reality creeps back in—sure and unfailing. Mom's hand is squeezing my shoulder, tearing me from the thick blanket of black where I don't have to feel. But, I am still surrounded by his smell. It saturates the room. Maybe I can pretend a little longer. I make a mental note to ask Esme for a few of his things—t-shirts, hoodies, maybe a pillow case. I wonder how long until it fades. His smell.

"Bella?" Mom touches my arm. I've forgotten she is here though she sits on the edge of the bed beside me. "The hospital called. Edward's autopsy results are back. Why don't you come downstairs?"

I nod robotically.

My eyes burn and feel raw around the edges. Carlisle's words run together and I grasp for pieces trying to understand.

Methadone. Only 2. Meemaw counted. Athlete. No body fat. Absorbed straight into his organs. Stopped breathing. Too long.

Brain damage.

Cardiac arrest.

And then I am back in his room. Under his blankets.

Darkness.

Escape.

Now Wednesday.

Not Tuesday.

Wednesday.

Mom is here, in Edward's room, tugging me out of bed. I don't know what happened to Tuesday and I squeeze my eyes shut trying to recall the last thing I remember. Mom is talking and I am nodding. I hear what she is saying—the words—I need to eat, not healthy, try to go to school—but their meaning is lost.

Still I find myself in the shower then later in the kitchen, dressed with a plate of bacon and eggs in front of me. I feel it in my mouth—the texture—but there is no taste, only a painful twisting in my gut as it settles like a lead weight.

I think I might throw up.

Alice is here and then I am in her car.

Gravel crunches under my feet. Too loud. It causes my head to pound as Alice ushers me towards the school building. We enter and I am lost in a sea of black and gold. Reminders of Edward are everywhere. Posters litter the walls and every t-shirt dons a number 5—Masen scribed across the shoulders.

Alice's hand leaves my arm and is replaced by a warmer, heavier one. It grounds me momentarily and I look up into the face of Pastor Andy.

"Hey, Bells." He offers a sad smile. "No first period for you."

He leads me outside past the rock—the football team has painted it; more black and gold, number 5, Masen—and into the administrative building. I follow him into a room and the conversation falls silent. The students sitting in a circle stop and stare; Jasper, Emmett, other guys from the team, our friend Jessica and a handful of other people I've seen around but don't really know. Mr. Grimes, our school counselor, sits at the top of the circle.

Andy escorts me to a chair and I sit without protest. I wish I was in class. At least then I could pretend. He's just waiting for me at my locker. He's sitting at our lunch table...standing outside my class. Pretending is easier.

Grief. Apparently there are five stages: denial and isolation, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance.

The word stages makes me snort. I can't help it. It rises up unbidden and hysterical, as if the emotions can be tied up in little packages, following neatly one after the other like band geeks in a parade.

I think I'm losing it.

I pull out a notebook and pen, doodling mindlessly as people vomit their feelings. They sound so eloquent, like they have it all figured out—their band geeks lined up like they are suppose to be.

Maybe it's because they didn't lose their soul.

Their everything.

Things still make sense to them.

"It's just really made me examine my own life, you know?" That was Jessica I think and I return to my scribble. "I mean, you don't ever really know do you?"

"Bella?" The sound of my name snaps me out of it.

"What?" I push out, my voice thin and shaky, and I realize it is the first time I've spoken since I whispered my goodbyes into Edward's neck.

"Would you like to add anything?"

I glance back down at my notebook, my scrawling coming into focus and I suck in a breath as if someone knocked the wind out of me.

_Bella Masen._

_Bella Marie Masen._

_Isabella Swan Masen._

_Bella & Edward 4ever. _

I rip the page out and ball it up. Grabbing my bookbag, I stand and wordlessly retreat to the quiet of the library, dropping the paper in the trash on the way out. Finding a table, I retrieve my biology notes from last week and try to lose myself somewhere between chloroplasts and mitochondria.

And it would have been successful if not for Kate Thompson spewing off at the mouth. The girl lived and breathed drama. No subject was sacred.

Not even Edward.

"He totally OD'ed. I mean, I guess you never really know a person."

"Yeah. He seemed to have it so together. Tragic." Lauren that time.

"Are you kidding me? Did you see him last spring? He was wasted at Tyler's party. Bella had to practically carry him to the car." Irina then.

"Obviously he had a problem." Kate again.

My chest tightens and I squeeze my eyes shut. Too much. Too much. My head feels full and yet empty at the same time. Stuffed with cotton. I lay my head down and the table feels cool against my cheek.

"Honey, are you alright?" It's Mrs. Walker, the librarian. I try to answer, but no sound comes out. My throat is blocked.

"Bella?" It's Alice this time. "Can you stand? Let's get you home."

"No. Edward's," I squeak.

"OK. I'm taking you to Edward's. Can you stand?"

Stand...Carpet. Under my fingers and I pick at the fibers. How did I end up on the floor?

Alice lifts my shirt over my head and replaces it with another one of Edward's sweatshirts. I'm in his room again. Blankets are under my chin and I close my eyes.

Escape.

I blink groggily, the room gray as the sun sinks from the sky. A weight presses on my chest and I turn to find Esme curled around me. She blinks, too. Once. Twice. Three times until her gaze rests on me.

"How are you, baby girl?" she asks, stroking the hair back from my face.

"Not good," I reply, surprising myself, but somehow I can talk to Esme. If anyone understands, she does.

"I know," she says.

"They're saying terrible things about him," I choke out and for the first time since the night he died a tear slips down my cheek.

"I know," she says.

Denial and isolation. Yep.

Anger. Check.

Thursday I stay home from school.

I'm allowed to stay home from school, but I'm not allowed to stay in Edward's room all day buried under the covers. I'm forced to shower and eat and respond when someone talks. Thursday afternoon Alice stops by after school. She is sitting with me on the couch.

"The football team and cheerleaders met today," she starts. "We're going to the game in Port Angeles tomorrow. We voted. It was unanimous. Everyone feels it's what Edward would have wanted. I just wanted you to hear it from me."

"No. I understand. It is what he would want," I concede, "but, there is no way I can cheer. I don't even know if I'll go."

Alice smiles softly and squeezes my hand before she leaves.

"Are you going to go?" I ask Esme, pushing the oatmeal around in the bowl with my spoon Friday morning.

"The whole family is going."

I drop my eyes to my breakfast and focus on poking a raisin. Noticing my hesitation, Esme walks to stand beside my chair and pulls me to her. I close my eyes, listening to her heart thrum beneath my ear.

"Bella, no one is going to make you go. Believe me, I understand why you wouldn't. Edward was your everything—"

"Is," I interrupted. "He is."

"Is," she corrected. "In a way, I imagine his death has been harder for you than it has been? for his father or me."

Her words shock me and I raise my eyes to hers in question. "I have Carlisle. I have Kyle and Katie. My future is still the same. Even though my son is gone and I miss him more than anyone can comprehend, I'll still grow old with the man I love. Katie and Kyle will give me grandchildren..."

Esme's words pierce my heart as she verbalizes everything I feel—how lost I've felt without him. Edward had been my future and in a single weekend every moment of that future had been erased—the husband I pictured, the children we would have together...

Vanished.

"But Bella," Esme's voice pulls me out of my thoughts, "Edward wouldn't want you to stay where you are right now. He doesn't want you to have a life with no future. My son loves you more than anything else in this world. He always has. Edward would want you to live, to carry on, to be happy again..."

"Esme," I breathe, not wanting her to say it.

"...to love again."

"No," I whisper.

She cups my face in her hands, tilting my head so she is looking me straight in the eye. "Yes, Bella. That's what true love is—putting others before yourself—and I've never seen a love truer than what Edward has for you."

"But how?" I wonder, not able to imagine this hurt ever going away.

"Grieve. Grieve hard, then honor his memory by living your life."

I'm in Edward's bed again, but this time I cannot sleep. Instead I stare at the ceiling, Esme's words rolling around and around in my brain. I don't know how long I've been here, but the house is quiet—empty. When I glance at the clock it's late—the game probably well into second quarter.

I turn on the computer intent on checking the score, but find myself on Edward's facebook page, reading the hundreds of messages people have left there.

_Edward,_

_I live all the way in California and I heard about you and the story in a sense. I am only 18 years old and you cross my mind often though we have never met. It just hurts to know that you were taken so young. Anyway, I really pray that you are okay along with everyone mourning you. I will meet you one day hopefully._

~5~

_On behalf of the Cougars from Lincoln County: R.I.P and know that you'll always be remembered and admired for playing the sport you loved till the very end._

~5~

_Hey man, _

_You don't know me but you knew my brother, and I watched you play ball a few times. He coached you in baseball at Forks, and while at work tonight your mother came into my store, wearing a button with a picture of you. I talked to her briefly about how you touched lots of people, and how great of a kid you were! You're definitely missed down here in Garfield County, and you'll never be forgotten, believe that!_

~5~

_Just wanted to tell you thank you man. You basically showed your friends and family how to pull through hard times and you pulled everybody together after you went to go see the Father in heaven. Just wanted to tell you that you been on my mind real strong. I wanted to give up because i am in a tight spot with school and grades right now but every time I think about you, I always tell myself that "graduation means a lot to me and that I'm going to do it for you"... Just know that you may not be here with us anymore, but when I walk across that stage, just know that you're in my heart and you're going to graduate with me this year! I loove you man and I miss you soooo much, I just wish that you can have another chance to be here with everybody again so that we can see that smile and hear your funny jokes man! Its hard w/o you man but I know that you are in a better place man. I LOVE YOU MAN AND DONT YOU EVER FORGET THAT MAN! #5field #1in heart._

As I sit, staring at the computer screen with tears streaming down my face, I just know. I need to be there. Edward would want it that way.

I pull on jeans and a t-shirt with Masen 5 on the back and sweep my hair into a ponytail. The 45 minute drive to Port Angeles High School feels like an eternity and I'm afraid I will miss the game. Once in the parking lot, I shut the car off and rush to the stands in search of my family. They are sitting together about half the way up the visitor's bleachers on the 50 yard line. Esme smiles when she sees me, but doesn't say anything. She wraps her arm around my waist and hugs me to her. I glance at the scoreboard and my stomach drops.

11-14 Port Angeles with 2:20 left in the fourth. Forks High has possession. 4th down on our own 9 yard line.

"It's not looking good." I say.

I know how much the team wanted to win this one for Edward and my heart breaks for them.

"No, it's not, but look around you Bella." Esme sweeps her hand across the bleachers.

Everywhere I look, I am met with black and gold, Masens and #5s.

"And look." Esme points to the other side where the Port Angeles Roughriders' bleachers are. Two-thirds are black and gold.

My eyes well up at the sight of everyone gathered to honor Edward. I know better than anyone what a kind soul he'd been, how he befriended anyone and everyone, but it had always been something I just knew about him—abstract and immeasurable. This was visible.

Tangible.

I watch as the team huddles together before setting up at the line of scrimmage. The ball is snapped and the game clock ticks off seconds. Sophomore quarterback Seth Black, in his first game, drops back. The crowd is shocked as everyone expected Coach Green to punt. Seth lets the pass fly as Jasper sprints down the field, heavily defended. The ball arcs in a perfect spiral and I hold my breath—Esme's grip on my waist tight. Jasper tilts his head back as the ball dips down over his head and settles in his arms.

And then he's on fire like a man possessed, leaving the slower defenders in the dust. At the ten yard line he thrusts his right hand in the air, holding aloft the number 5 as he runs into the endzone for a touchdown.

I watch with my hands clasped firmly over my mouth as the kick sails through the goal bars for the extra point. The bleachers shake under my feet as people shout and cheer. Jasper finds me in the stands pointing to me before blowing me a kiss and tapping his chest over his heart. Esme and Mom wrap their arms around me and cry and shake, but I cannot move—in awe of what just happened.

18-14 Forks High Spartans.

And as I watch both teams celebrate on the field, I realize Esme was right. This is what Edward would want—for the people he loved, his friends and family—to live their lives. He would want them to celebrate the person he was and the legacy he leaves behind.

Coach Green would later describe the game as miraculous, but Esme knew it was something else.

"I'm glad you came," she whispers against my cheek.

"Me, too," I answer. "He's here. Edward's here and it's good."

"Of course he is." Her tone is admonishing as if I'm missing some valid point. "You brought him here." I cock my head not understanding her meaning.

Esme lays her hand over my heart. "He's still here. Inside you. He always will be."

A single tear runs down my cheek as Esme steps away. I lift my eyes towards heaven knowing he is here watching—listening.

"You always will be," I whisper.

**A/N: This story is based on the life of Harry Cohen. If you are interested, there are links to 2 videos on my profile from the football game referenced above. Also, the messages left on "Edward's" Facebook page are real messages taken from Harry's page. The pic used as the icon for this fic is actually Harry. You will also find a banner on my profile. I haven't posted it until now because it is a major spoiler. Thank you to everyone who has stuck with this fic even though it was not an HEA. I guess it was my way of grieving and the fact that you have allowed me to share it with you all means a lot. Thanks again!**

**Much love,**

**bg30**


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